


leo

by bubbleteabunny



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12850827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleteabunny/pseuds/bubbleteabunny
Summary: When you sigh, you breathe out stardust. And she will never know anything more beautiful.





	leo

You were born of the stars, and in your veins flows dust from plains of the universe light years away.

The first time she heard of you had been in Themiscyra, a tale in dusty tomes with their worn leather covers and upon the lips of her elders. It was her nightly bedtime story for a long while—a mystical creature older than all in existence, composed of the first stars to light the sky, younger only than the space in which it hangs. Diana couldn’t fathom a being so old, one older than the gods themselves. She wondered (wonders still, even) what you might know, for someone who’s been around that long has seen eons fly by, witnessed nations rise and fall as fast as it could blink. Surely you have also felt the flickering of the stars which surround you, as they take their place in the sky with you, shining for a few millennia before they flicker again, just as on the day they were created, as if hit with that last burst of energy before they die, and their spot in the universe is black once more. Diana wonders if you feel sad when that happens, because if that’s the case, you have been sad many times over, for your friends are never around for long. 

It’s this last thought that has always bothered her. She tells herself she will make you smile, somehow, in some way. Never mind that she, nor anyone else in Themiscyra, knew where you were. The books in the library state you’re only found when you want to be, which has been precisely zero, at the time they’d been written. You’re a private creature. Maybe all the years of losing the stars you call companions has made you too afraid to find anymore.

You’re lingering in the back of her mind, and sometimes she dreams of you, as though her soul is reminding her of that goal she had come up with so long ago—to make you smile. But she doesn’t have time to look for you. The universe is vast and the conflicts within the world of man keep her busy, keep her on the ground. She’s taken up working at the Louvre in Paris, and one day a painting arrives at the museum, sent to her department for retouching before getting put on display, and the moment she lays eyes on it, her breath is stolen away.

There can be no mistake—it’s you. How she could tell without even knowing what you look like (for there hadn’t been images in any books either), she has no idea, but the way her heart seems to skip a beat is enough of a confirmation. Her gloved hand hovers over the canvas, aching to touch it, feel the texture against the latex. Your hair is meticulously done, each strand painted softly to match the soft look in your eyes, the serenity of a being who could hold all of time in its hand. The dress you wear is loose and billowy and she swears she can hear the wind which blows it about. Behind you is a dark sky and the formation of stars from which you came.

It’s not signed, and Diana searches the archives and asks others in the department about who might’ve done it, but no one is sure. There’s speculation, potential artists who had for one reason or another chosen not to leave their name; it’s not a good enough answer for her. When it’s finally hanging in one of the rooms of the Louvre, Diana stops by it often, staring at it with crossed arms and trying to make sense of how it came to be, how it has made its way here. Are you looking to be found? Have you deemed the time right? The Louvre might be famous but she’s wondering if that’s the _only_ reason the painting has ended up here.

The Justice League begins as a series of dossiers on Bruce Wayne’s computer. Diana’s staring at all the faces on the screen as he pulls them up, and she tells him to stop when one in particular flashes across the monitor. 

“Her. Do your recognize her at all?” she asks, pointing at it and glancing at him.

Bruce stares at the photo for a moment, then shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t. Should I?”

Diana purses her lips and contemplates explaining, then shakes her head. “No. I was thinking of someone else.” There’s still a part of her that’s doubtful it’s actually you, because it feels so strange that she hasn’t had to search the galaxy for you. She’d always believed you were living in a corner of the universe, in a realm all your own, from where you observe the wonders of the space around you, what has been brought to existence, to find something which catches your eye that you want to explore. Perhaps Earth had been that something? Because from the information Bruce has found on you—[Name] [Last Name] is what you go by—it seems you’ve been here long enough to carve out a life for yourself.

Once it comes time to recruit all the members, Bruce assigns Diana to you. He’d seen the familiarity flittering in her eyes when she saw your picture, and though she tried to brush it off, he knew there was something more she wasn’t telling him. So she sets out for you, but instead of traveling through various reaches of the universe, she travels to a small town in Greece. 

She walks into the café and pauses momentarily to scan the room in search for you. Finally she spots you in the back corner, and it’s difficult to process. She’s been aware of you for as long as she can remember, had at times resigned herself to the fact that perhaps she would never find you, no matter how much she sought you out. Because it came down to whether or not you wanted someone to find you. But she’s not imagining anything as she slowly walks over, seeing that face from the pictures Bruce had and from that painting back in Paris, that for all she knows could be as old as you are. Your hair is shorter than what was on the painting, however, but that’s not saying much. In the artwork, it had reached the ground and trailed behind you, but now it merely goes down to your hips.

She reaches your table and gently says your name, not what you go by on Earth, but your _real_ name, and you look up, and suddenly she’s falling into your eyes, as beautiful as they are old. You don’t look surprised to hear it, and she’s wondering why, because she doubts anyone else has used it on Earth. But maybe that _is_ why you’re so unsurprised. No one else but her knows it—it wasn’t even in the files Bruce had on you. So when you hear it, you know who it is that’s said it, and Diana’s heart is beating hard because that means you know. You know she’d been searching for you, prepared to scour every inch of the cosmos for you, only to find you one plane ride away. She almost can’t believe this is real, that she stands before you now, the being she has heard and read so much about, who’d never wanted to be found until you did and not only that, you wanted to be found by _her_. 

Diana tells herself it’s because of the League, that you wanted to be amongst them to fight agains the dark forces looming just around the bend. And sure, that’s part of it. You find a family in them, fighting alongside them with power fueled by the stardust in your blood. That’s what gives you the ability to shift—an imposing lioness, all golden fur and golden eyes and sharp claws and teeth and a deep roar. But the other part is the part she doesn’t want to admit to herself because doing so would admit that you mean more to her than just a battle companion, the greatest any could have. To do so would force her to admit that you mean the most to her out of _anything_ she has ever known or understood and would _ever_ know or understand.

But it’s hard not to fall in love with you. Many nights in Themiscyra she has fallen asleep wondering what you might look like, what you might sound like. And whenever she did, she swore she felt a warmth engulfing her, the ghostly sensation of a hand on her arm, thumb stroking her skin. As if you’d always been watching, always listening. It’s like she’s known you forever because when she looks at you, she sees home. 

You can sense her apprehension, she’s sure of it. Because during one of those quiet moments when she thinks she’s falling too fast and she has to look away before she’s overwhelmed by the infinite depths stretching behind your eyes, you reach up to set a hand on her arm, your thumb stroking the skin gently, and suddenly she’s back in Themiscyra dreaming about you, and when you smile, she knows that you know. And it’s a special smile, one softer than all the rest you’ve ever worn upon your magnificent face, and Diana’s chest tightens when she sees it because _that’s the smile_ —the one she always told herself she would be responsible for, the one full of love because she’s turning your mind away from thoughts of the stars you’ve watched die, and instead upon the stars in your sights now, and those which you can see millions of years into the future yet. 

When she kisses you, she finds your lips to be warm, the perfect refuge in a world that can get awfully cold. And she comes to find the rest of your body is warm too, as she runs her own lips along the expanse of soft skin. It crosses her mind that you _are_ made of stars, so perhaps that’s a given. You’re always burning, the warm glow of your form like her own North Star. 

You lay on your stomach, arms crossed and tucked beneath your head, which is turned towards Diana. With a small smile on her face she connects the dots on your back with the tip of her index finger. You shiver as she does so, and your eyelids start to droop, the sensation making you sleepy. When her finger slides to the dots on the small of your back, running down your spine, you twitch and arch slightly. It’s a sensitive spot for you, and it makes her smile. The dots look like a tattoo, but Diana knows better—it’s a birthmark. 

“This is Leo,” she speaks up, resting her hand on your back. It’s a statement, not a question.

You nod and turn onto your side so you can face her, and her hand slides along your body as you do. Now it’s positioned on the dip of your waist. You don’t say anything right away but the two of you are content to bask in each other’s presence for the time being. Then you grab the hand she has on your waist and lace your fingers together. It’s the perfect fit. “I would immortalize you in the stars, hang them up next to me if you wanted,” you start quietly. “Or I could take them from the sky and adorn the circlet you wear. Though I think they’d feel a little outshone.”

Diana chuckles and brings your joined hands up to her mouth so she can lay a kiss on the back of yours. Between the affection residing in your eyes and the charm which colors your smile, she already knows, more confidently than anything else she has ever known before, that the other stars which share the expanse of the universe with you have long since been outstaged. 


End file.
